How it Happened
by IamPsipsina
Summary: After the hallway scene in Amor Fati, everything changes. The missing scenes in Series 7. MSR. Doors are opened.
1. Chapter 1

_This is generally Amor Fati, but starts post-Hungry (07x03)_**.**

* * *

How it happened.

The flight home from California was quieter that usual.

A married countenance of shared equanimity seemed to colour their movements. Deep, magnetic truths and shadows lurking between gestures.

"_You were my touchstone: my constant."_

"_And you are mine."_

The tidal sway between them was stronger now. Quieter. A sun and moon in a slow, eternal dance. That final frontier: the untold mysteries of man and woman, conquered- unasked questions, silently fulfilled.

He was sat beside her: aisle seat. A few old case files- already scanning for the next job - were loosely clasped in his hand as it rested on his lap. Blue shirt, tie loosened, sleeves- rolled up. His chin was tilted upwards as his head sat back in its rest. Calmly, an almost imperceivable smile teased at his lips. He felt it somewhere deep but it had no obvious trigger. He surveyed the ground beneath them non-committally as it hurled by at 500mph.

Scully: window seat, black cotton-lycra t-shirt under her tailored blazer. Timeless. Controlled. Her eyes were closed in waking as she allowed herself to be bathed, languidly in the lusting, loving glare of the sun. Her featured shone hot gold in its gaze. A smile of her own hid somewhere behind her blossoming mouth. His bicep was gently pressing into the soft round tip of her shoulder. Its calming presence warmed her more than any glowing star could. Through him, she felt gravity's familiar force.

Peace. Perfect, stunningly tense, aching, beautiful peace.

* * *

It was dark now. Light from the freeway batted at the window like fluorescent paws. One. Darkness. Two. Darkness. Three. On it went, rhythmically marking their journey from the airport. The roar of the night as it whipped against the car's aluminium frame seemed quiet compared to the pulsating, heavy silence between them.

It was comfortable, in their dark cocoon. The radio was off. He had one hand on the wheel, his left elbow propped up against the window frame as he drove. His right rested on his knee as he gently nibbled on the lower inside of his lip.

Her legs were crossed at the thigh, hips arching forward slightly as she leaned determinately into the back of her seat. A thick bronze lick of hair hid her face as she watching unseeingly at the grey landscape. Her breath was steady and deep. Mulder could see the poised outline of a dark suede high heal slowly undulate with the movement of the car in his peripheral vision.

Subtle and unfathomably sexy.

She was always in the peripheral.

They missed her turning of the freeway. She said nothing. Neither stirred.

The oxygen in his lungs felt cool. His limbs seemed to colour with the most beatific sense of purpose and being. He could feel the blood surging around his capillaries with ever slow, calm beat of his heart. He felt as steady as ancient stones.

She closed her eyes momentarily, a smile spreading softly but only behind her sockets. Unspoken knowledge. Appreciation. A passive joy merged with a sense of normality. So very normal. Natural.

He led. She followed. And she loved him for it.

* * *

10.15. They pull up to his building and he switches off the engine. Without a pause she clicks at the handle and reaches up out of the car. She causally looks around, closing the door behind her before resting her hands on her hips. She tilts her head back and closes her eyes and she allows the cool nighttime breeze to tease her hair and neck.

The trunk is closed. The car beeps as it's secured. Mulder hands over her overnight bag, hooking his own across the corner of his long, athletic frame.

Scully follows closely behind -always close- as he moves to the door. With his free hand he removes the keys from his pocket. They arrive. He gently slips the sculpted brass into its lock. The door groans a little as he holds it open for her. His arm is high on the frame.

She steps through and calls the elevator.

This is the first time.


	2. Chapter 2

He enters. The clang of keys on wood. The sound of footfalls distancing themselves.

Self-possessively, Scully steps across his threshold. She recognises its subtle scent: the pine tables and leather furniture, the almost silent aroma of aftershave lingering somewhere far and hidden. The fish tank hums in accordance with the fridge. It's the symphony of an empty home, a bachelor's hideout too used to being empty. She gently closes the door, her heels tapping against the wooden floor as she takes two, three, four steps to come rest against the frame of the living room walkway.

Familiar building. New purpose.

She places her holdall at her feet and hears him approaching behind her.

She nimbly winds round to face him, but her eyes are cast down at the floor. A moment, and she submits, showing herself to him. He's loosening his tie, looking securely into her. He seems immovable: certain. Gentle. Mulder moves towards her now and allows his arm fall to his side. She can feel her breath still. Every synapse quietens. The tips of her fingers are numb. It takes him so long to reach her. Finally, immediately, he draws her diminutive frame to his own, carefully placing the tender pads of his fingers against her jaw as their swollen mouths meet.

The universe is merely a canvas for this moment. A supernova blossoms between them as their tender physical union deepens. Boundaries are diminished. Chaste tension is unwound while another tightens hotly to take its place. The whole world changes.

She lifts her arms to encircle his neck while he strokes his left hand along her hip until he's cupping her lower back. He guides her pelvis towards him with his right, his palm lingering on the feminine curve of her figure.

Impossible as it feels, they instinctively gravitate even closer as the hot tips of their tongues tentatively touch. Mulder lets out a soft moan that surges from an unexplored continent deep within as she willingly, peaceably opens herself to him. Their hips fuse together, their fingers stroking, urging: pleading. Organically, he pushes her back against the frame, yearning to fall into her, like a vast sapphiric ocean - to drown a happy death. Her thumb strokes his cheekbone, relishing the barely-there stubble. He subtly traps her bottom lips between his teeth - for just a second, kissing it immediately better. His mouth is a balm that soothes her very sex. Firm, adoring, commanding, flirtatious, gentle, wild... He consumes her and ignites her. A deliciously dark Yang to her glowing Yin.

Their bodies are flush against each other - their foreheads touching- he lifts her. Obligingly, she wraps her thighs around his waist. His arm now supports them, palm high on the wall. Space between them is null, her breasts pressed against his chest. His warmth permeates her own. Such tender administrations. He finally tears his mouth from hers. It feels like flora being ripped from the earth by their roots. He wants to grow back into her. He feels now how deeply he really is entangled. Blindly.

They rest against each other in that familiar place: their crowns touching. Breath is heavy. They are complete.

Mulder listens to the music of her. He feels the rise and fall of her chest. But irrespective of their proximity: disregardless of her very limbs being melted into his own, he all at once feels unsure, almost vulnerable. He swallows and his eyes flicker closed again. He frowns a little. Exhaling softly through his nose he pulls his face from hers. He now looks searchingly into her- with those wise and gentle aluminium eyes - immediately he sees her answer. Scully lets her head fall back against the wooden frame, her mouth parted just slightly. She is alight. Peaceful. She is Outer Space. She is Mother Earth. She is the unknown. The achingly familiar. His truth. Her hot glance glides downwards to his peony pout and together they come to kiss again. Slowly and indulgently.

Still wearing her, he steps back a few paces and walks them to his bedroom, his mouth still soundlessly pressed to her own. She moans gently as he kisses deeply just below her ear. A petty glow emanates from the street lights outside, but other from that cream-coloured hue, they are sensually bathed in total darkness. She teases him still, her mouth trailing against his jaw and his throat as he leans against the frame and expertly removes his dress shoes with his heel. He places her down on a firm and inviting mattress, his body parallel to hers. With one hand he pulls her t-shirt over her head and throws it behind her.

Scully lets her arms fall behind her head as he adorns her ribcage and stomach with slow, rhythmic kisses. She watches him for a moment. His eyes are closed. She gently trails her fingers through his hair. Her eyes now slip closed as he lets his lower lip caress a sensitive spot just above her right hipbone.

It feels so very abstract. This, the first of many more intimate exchanges to come, has been already lived in both minds' eyes a thousand time over. They feel as if this is the millionth time they have done this dance, yet simultaneously so alive with the vibration of reality and fiction _finally_ coming together and mating alongside them.

_This is Scully. Yours... The contours of her figure seem so achingly familiar: but so sweetly unexplored. You want to devour her. Climb inside her and hide forever. You feel utter equality: such match. But at the same time, you have never felt so masculine: so able to covet and conquer. To have and to hold. You transcend yourself._

_In truth, despite your valour, you've always been of his possession but now you feel his spirit bow down to your own. You want his flame to lick at your limbs and destroy you. To become ashes and smoke. As he lays at your side, his body crushing down on yours, his hands slowly, appreciatively caressing you exposed skin, you feel such a sense of place and purpose, as if this is all you've ever really been doing for the past 6 years. You feel God between you._

Sitting up, Mulder takes her leg in hand. She props herself on her elbows to watch, unable to be any further apart from him. _These gates cannot be closed. They could never go back to such segregation. This physical matrimony won't be undone. They know it now. They are effortlessly, unspeakably bound. _With his palm to her ankle, Mulder watches the expressions dance across her face as he removes her high heel. He drops it to the floor softly before placing her leg back down on the mattress. She deliberately offers him the next and tries to hide her smile when his eyebrows arch in pleasant surprise. Her shoe's mate hits the floor.

Now Scully's head falls back between her shoulder blades as he languidly runs his hand up the length of her leg, slipping under the hem of her pencil skirt. His finger pads catch the edge of one of her caramel-coloured hold ups- they're just as he'd imagined all those lonely motel nights- and with achingly slow precision, he pulls it down, down down, until he slips it off all together.

"Mulder..." she whispers, their first word in over a hour's silence.

"_Scully_," he replies knowingly, pressing a chaste kiss to the inside of her thigh. He mirrors his earlier gesture with her other leg, leisurely stripping it of its silky prison. She sits up, head tilted and focus fixed on the top buttons of his shirt as she slowly slips them undone, one by one. She notes the distant promise of his aftershave. She feels so close, as if she's trespassed on private property: one she's too used to only watching from afar. He holds her jaw in his hands and he kisses her deeply, their lips making love while their tongues flirt.

Her hands now follow his shirt over his warm, toned shoulders. As she abandons it to the floor, she runs her palms across his biceps appreciatively. His hot, firm stomach, parallel to her playful mouth is overwrought with teasing promises from her soft, pink mouth. He sighs. His hands are in her flame-red hair. She lowers her hands to his belt buckle. She relishes the sound of metal on metal as it pops undone. Finally, looking up at him calmly, she unbuttons his pants and slips them down his thighs. He bends down to kiss her, her hands tangling in his hair as he pulls them and his grey Boss socks off for her.

He lays down on top of her now, feeling like a lion in demand of his mate. He places a knee between her thighs and whispers her name into her throat.

_Scully... finally Scully._

She runs a hand across his back, grazing the tips of her fingers against his buttocks.

The back of his knuckles trail along the side of her body. She moans and flexes her body under his touch.

Mulder trails his slender fingers down her throat and pulls at the cup of her bra. The now vulnerable flesh, her exposed nipple, is teased mercilessly as he gratefully takes it into his mouth and begins to suck and flicker against it with his tongue. His hands knowingly pleasure the tender insides of his thighs. She tugs at his hair. She groans loudly and he bites gently onto the swollen pink bud. He is losing himself in her. She is an extension now. How can he ever go back to keeping his distance: re-building such painstakingly forged boundaries?

Unable to take such a disparity of pleasure, Scully's hand finds its way to his rock-hard cock where it now presses against her upper thigh. When she suddenly wraps her fingers around his boxer-clad self, her breast is set free as he throws back his head and loudly moans. Breathing out another happy sigh, Mulder looks down at his partner with hungry resilience and sexual respect. Such a perfect playmate... It's as if they were truly unaware their back and forth retorts were only ever a dress rehearsal for such an occasion. How naive...

He pulls her up to him, their torsos hot, firm and smooth against each another. With one hand he works to unclasp her bra. The other gently, possessively, adoringly grasps her throat, securing a teasing kiss from her jewel-like mouth. Their kisses are open, lips brushing and caressing hotly, always exploring.

On some secret level he becomes modestly aware of how beautiful a couple they make, two lithe frames merging.

Their toned limbs intertwine as they entangle and roll, pulling at each others' final layers until they lay burning and interweaved, fully exposed to each other.

Feeling his arms locked around and beneath her, and her own rise up to tangle around his back, a fleeting thought colours Dana's mind. She believes Mulder has always seen straight through to this place. To him she has always been this incandescently naked and never vulnerable for it. He sees her, as she is, in her entirety. She has never wanted or been able to hide. With him this is the most natural behaviour in the world. This bed was carved for this moment. His kiss nourishes her. His touch is like water. She feels guarded, like a queen.

They gasp and groan together as finally, achingly, divinely, Mulder pushes his perfect cock into her warm, waiting sex. Together they pause, looking deeply into each other, their gaze flicking from pupil to pupil. She tightens her grip on his back. He runs a thumb across her forehead.

Such tender, holy love.

Mulder kisses her so gently. Once, twice... She nuzzles her temple to the bridge of his nose as they begin to move together, deep, measured and dreamily. He feels high. Her slick sex grips him. She feels him unlock her. Her very heart seems to expand: thaw and glow and wrap around them like a hot, gold nest.

He leans up on his arm, allowing their pelvis to sensually grind together. Her breath hitches in her throat as his body grinds against her clit. He loves to watch eery flicker of emotion and feeling as it paints her more beautiful. He looks down at her with reverence- worship. He strokes her stomach. She leans upwards, begging for his mouth again. _This is to be._

As they undulate over and again she half moans his name. Their bodies are growing slick as they transcendentally oscillate together.

She is like opium.

He pulls at her thigh and she hooks her leg around him. They need him to be deeper. They can never be close enough. She cries out as he bends to suckle on her breast, over her heart, then back up to her mouth. She tightens her sacred walls around him and he shudders in pleasure and cries out her name. _Don't _he is silently begging her. It can't end now. But she pulls him down to her, desperate for him to let go and plummet into her open depths. Her heels press into his the backs of his legs. Her hand grasps his neck.

Love billows from their caressing lips.

She kisses him, wholly and like she has never done so with any other man before. They press their foreheads together. She feels tides of pleasure rolls and slam within her but she wants him to come inside her now. She has no times for games... next time. She yearns to feel him dissolve into her like dark ink in water. As their mouth pull apart she and devotedly look into each others eyes once more, he is finally untied. His brow tangles in emotion and blinding pleasure, her soft ice-blue gaze pushing him into a vast, endless chasm. They harmoniously moan as his cock pulsates inside her and all he has and is and can be escapes and blossoms with her.

Quiet. Except for their deep, slow breath.

Eyes closed. Her fingers slightly stroke his hair. He presses her mouth to her damp temple. They stay here for a while, their roots entwined. They are one organism. They have all the time in the world.

Slowly, dreamily, sated, he rolls them onto their side and pulls at his comforter until it half-covers their entangled bodies. He kisses at her mouth once more, caressing her cheek with the loving pad of his thumb. They rest their foreheads and the bridge of their noses together. Here they quickly fall asleep. They don't stir until morning.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Mulder slowly falls out of sleep. He is heavy and warm. His eyes are still closed, not yet ready for the morning. He hears her dressing, gathering her possessions and zipping up her bag. He hers her grace. He is warmed by her being close.

His chest is bare. She finds him so beautiful to look at. He is so strong yet so open.

She has a medical conference this morning. They are silently grateful for it. Nothing is changed, yet a world of new dimensions have been made available to them: by their own hands. It is perfection.

He rolls on to his back, opening his eyes and tilting his torso slightly towards her. Her back is to him. He watches her pull her holdall over her shoulder and run a hand through her perfect auburn hair. She starts for the door. But now she pauses.

Silently, Scully turns and takes a couple of steps back to him, her hand coming to rest in his hair. She kisses him once, her eyes slipping closed. She bends for another. They press their foreheads together for a moment. He momentarily pressing his knuckles to her jaw, his thumb pad once again memorising the soft flush of her jaw. And then wordlessly she leaves.

This is how it began.


End file.
